


promise me a second time.

by douxdamian



Series: peachy keen [3]
Category: The Devil All the Time (2020)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Murder, Mutual Pining, Things get steamy read at your own discretion, almost smutty, but at what cost, nothing explicit though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26630653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/douxdamian/pseuds/douxdamian
Summary: — SPOILER WARNING —Waking up at Reader's place, we finally get a glimpse at Arvin's POV. Though, while their relationship seems to be moving forward, it seems like the whole 'running away into the sunset' deal only happens in fiction.
Relationships: Arvin Russell/Reader, Arvin Russell/You
Series: peachy keen [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933792
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	promise me a second time.

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! i feel like i should say here but there is a bit of a content warning mid-way through the chapter.
> 
> things DO get a little steamy, but nothing explicit happens, as the tags say. just a caution warning if anything that might be borderline smutty makes you uncomfortable!

When Arvin woke up leaned against you, he felt his face turn into a beet shade of red. Slowly parting from your leaning form on the couch, he rubbed his eye, unaware that he had an actual decent rest in such a cramped position. He hardly ever felt comfortable enough to sleep in his own bed. Usually, attempts at sleep were mostly met with staring at the ceiling blankly, recalling haunting memories on repeat in his head.

His thoughts were blank when he fell asleep. Arvin was met with nothing but the television’s staticy audio and the sound of your quiet breathing.

He looked over to take in your features— what amazing features, he thought— and found his hand carefully creeping to the side of your face to brush the knuckle of a finger near your ear, tucking a strand of hair behind it lovingly.

Arvin loved you.

He knew he shouldn’t— he knew he had no idea what love was— but within the few months spent together, Arvin knew he liked you too much to be calling it _‘liking’_ and _‘platonic’._

That one stormy evening alongside memories of beating the hell out of Lenora’s bullies, blood and bruising splattering his knuckles like paint, he needed a place to clear his head. He needed a place that was quiet in every way shape and form. Arvin had been driving with a foggy haze before his eyes had locked onto McCann Boys. Arvin wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t anything, he just needed to sit somewhere other than a damn car where he could swerve into a building and die.

When he stepped in, the immediate smell of sweetness overloaded his senses, and he found himself hesitantly sitting down in a booth, wringing the cloth against his knuckles in a patterned fashion.

Then you approached.

And by God, had you been the prettiest sight to see. If it were on any other day, Arvin would’ve been sure to come up with better words than asking if he had to buy anything.

 _That’s not how you talk to a pretty face,_ his father would scold in his head, _y’wanna smile at ‘er, and make her feel all sorts of butterflies. Y’gotta make her feel like the only girl in the world, son._

Arvin often had his father’s coaching in his head when it came to things like this. Though, it didn’t really make sense most of the time. His father didn’t live long enough to meet Arvin in his _‘girl phase’._ This was more than a phase, he promised himself, looking at your resting form. And my, had the universe been so forgiving of him, making sunlight drawing from blinds rest on your features, highlighting your skin and making you look like a pure, unadulterated angel.

He wanted you.

Arvin bit his bottom lip. He wanted you so bad. He wanted to keep you forever. He wanted to take you away from this lowly place in Ohio and bring you somewhere nice, somewhere with beaches and sunshine, away from disgusting preachers, dried blood and judgmental eyes.

Realizing the first time you went to that church, Arvin could see the way that no-good priest looked at you. He knew what that man did to Lenora. He knew everything. Arvin got up from the couch, his fists turning stark white as he paced towards the apartment door, red building at the sides of his eyes. Arvin had to protect all the girls in town. He had to. For Lenora, for Y/N. He had to go and—

“Arvin?”

Hearing a voice that reminded him of bells, Arvin turned around, seeing you slowly rise up from the couch and looking over to make contact with him. “Where are you going?”

Your sleepy tone was so amiable. Your eyes were so dazed, blinking as you gave a small sniffle, scratching at your shoulder.

“I was…” Arvin trailed off before coming back towards you, kneeling in front of the couch and giving a smile as he took your hand. “I was gonna get you breakfast. As a thank you.” A lie, but it was fine. He was planning on watching the priest. Though, breakfast didn’t sound too bad. Time with you was worth more than anything else. You were all he had, next to his grandmother and uncle.

You smiled. He melted a little inside.

“You don’t need to get me anything,” you murmured as you clutched onto his hand. Your eyes were studious, flitting around his body, and he suddenly felt small. “Are you okay? I’m sorry about the sleeping stuff… if your neck was stiff, I mean, I’d feel bad—”

“Y/N,” Arvin spoke sternly, “that was the best sleep I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your eyes turned round, diluting slightly once they met the sunlight.

Arvin could hear his father’s berating tone in the back of his head. _Say it. Be a man._ He looked at the ground, holding onto your hand for dear life, uneasily balancing his weight on his knee. Though, Arvin couldn’t say anything. Nothing was coming out. There you were, waiting so _patiently,_ being so _patient_ with him, and he was at a lack for words.

Words wouldn’t fix this. Only action. Action would fix everything, Arvin knew this. He was taught this. He was always better physically expressing his thoughts and feelings than vocally or emotionally.

Releasing one of his hands from yours, he curved one underneath your palm and pulled your soft, untouched knuckles against his lips, giving a kiss. These knuckles have never hurt a soul. This being had never hurt anyone. Arvin would make sure it would stay that way.

He glanced upwards, his cap altering his view slightly, and he could make out the way your cheeks turned a different shade, inviting lips gaping slightly.

Smiling against your skin, Arvin moved his free hand to the top of yours and gazed at you. To his surprise, he watched as your thumb rolled circles against his own. You were smiling, and it was a smile to take in. Oh, it was.

“You’re sweet, Arvin,” you giggled so beautifully and he wanted to listen to his name coming out of your mouth on repeat, “...I kinda want donuts.”

Arvin couldn’t help but give a laugh under his breath at the change of moods. He stood up, continuously holding your hand as he refused to let it go, and said, “Let’s get donuts, then.”

—

He was angry. He was a pot boiling. Staring at Preston from afar, he watched from his car as the man interacted with a female shopowner who was fresh out of highschool. Arvin’s leg bounced within his vehicle, the sun setting, and he continued to survey.

Preston would interact with girls other than his wife. He would bring girls into his car and do unspeakable, unlawful things with them, then proceed to go back to the place he calls home and force himself onto his wife.

Arvin clutched onto the wheel.

While Preston was a horrible man who deserved the worst punishment from all graces of any lord, he found himself growing frustrated. Not even just about Lenora or all the sweet innocence the man took, Arvin found himself growing frustrated at his own damn self.

He would think about Y/N.

No, not doing such acts as those forcefully, imagining the same power dynamic, he would never. He meant it when he said he didn’t hurt girls. Arvin despised the man. He despised him and he wanted him gone. He wanted that man to suffer for what he did to his sister. Though, at points, he would drive up to your apartment and stare at the window that belonged to you. He would lick his chapped lips and his hand would shake as it reached the door handle. Then, Arvin would grow a clear sense of mind, he would receive clarity, and he would drive to the opposite side of town just to avoid even thinking about touching you in such a passionate way.

After a few days, Arvin decided.

He’d have to leave you behind.

He loved you, but he also loved Lenora, and Lenora deserved justice. Arvin could hear her voice already, pleading for him to let it go. To just let the man be. To leave. Do anything else. Settle down with you somewhere far, far away, start a life, start a family. Be free.

_“I ain’t ever let anything go, ‘Nora.”_

  
  


The priest was dead.

Arvin’s blood rushed through his veins as the sun set on the horizon, him zooming through the city streets, eagerly approaching your apartment.

God, it was a thrill. The adrenaline coursing through his veins after watching the damned predator fall onto the church floor bleeding from his wounds was cathartic. It made Arvin’s head whirl and turn dizzy. He had no moral thoughts, he was no longer moral, no longer a man that could be forgiven. Arvin felt the rage that built up within him for years be released with three gunshots, the guilt and agony of being alone and misjudged by any person left behind within the church.

Sitting in the car and hearing the blinker click at him, he turned it off once pulling into the lot. He took off his cap, carding his fingers through his hair, debating if he was really going to let you go.

Y/N offered a future he couldn’t take. It hurt more than anything.

Arvin glanced up at your patio, seeing you move from behind the window. You were only a silhouette. You were yet to be discovered by him in this manner, this new Arvin Russell. You wouldn’t recognize him, he thought, he wouldn’t recognize you.

It would be a completely different take on his life. He was no longer himself. Was he better, or worse? Was he a criminal, or a vigilante? Arvin didn’t know what to do. It hadn’t set in yet that he was no longer only capable of beating bullies shitless. He was so much more than that. He was _more._

Arvin could do anything.

It was dark out. He finally found the courage to yank open the door handle and step out of his car. He didn’t bother to lock it, he had nothing to lose.

Entering the apartment’s doors, smelling various spices of cooking or hearing children laughing from very muffled walls, Arvin found himself stomping up the steps, his heart beating against his ribs uneasily.

Staring at the room, noticing that the others around were vacant, Arvin could just about do anything. No one would know.

He clenched his fists a few times before finally knocking on the door with his knuckles. It was like the first time you two had met, his very knuckles expressing his pain and anguish, and you read onto the signs of a lonely man seeking solace. Arvin was still bruised and broken; just not in any place where you could see it.

You opened the door, and your mouth opened before closing abruptly. Arvin knew he must’ve looked like he just killed someone. Well, he did, but you didn’t know about that.

Arvin wanted you. Though, he’d be careful, you were the one delicate thing in his life. He had to treat you with care. He had to treat you so gently this night, for it would be your last with him.

Taking a step inside, he moved his hand up and cupped your cheek, moving his thumb— once holding a gun used to kill— so that it wiped gingerly beneath your bottom lip. Your jaw fidgeted slightly as you were attempting to find words. Though, your hand didn’t disagree with his actions. Instead, it met the back of his palm, planted gently on top of his own hand that held your cheek.

Confident, Arvin moved in closer and pulled you towards him, meeting your lips with his. You made a soft noise in your throat and it set Arvin’s mind on fire. Flames danced between your faces, and he felt you eagerly kiss back, your arms snaking across his shoulders as he found himself kicking the door with the back of his heel to close it shut.

Your hands found themselves on the surface of his head and pushing off his cap to knot fingers in his hair. Arvin didn’t even care. His body was burning underneath your touch as he found himself pressing you against the nearest flat surface, which was your dining room table that held a vase with hand picked flowers resting inside and a sweet floral mat keeping it level. You were _so adorable,_ he swooned in his head, you were so _precious_ to him and _oh so good._ You’re so good.

Wife material, Arvin’s head was screaming, he wanted to steal you away and marry you. You were lifted onto the mahogany table, Arvin’s tongue swiping at your bottom lip. You were so good, submitting your mouth to him, letting him roam the inside and clutch onto your hips so tightly it could bruise. Feeling your soft, untouched, blessed hands clutch onto his belt line had him push his pelvis closer to yours.

“Arvin—” you attempted, but he wouldn’t let you. No, he wouldn’t let you worry. You didn’t need to worry about anything, not with him around. He was your protector, he would keep you safe, he wouldn’t let you die or leave. He wouldn’t let you be hurt by anyone. Thinking about keeping you close to him in his arms, just this close, making you sigh from pleasure as Arvin plastered kisses down your jaw and to your neck to test the waters of what made you quiver; _it was enough to drive him insane._

He found his teeth scraping at your flesh and you gasped, arching your body upwards and he felt your hips grind against his middle. It made him give out a guttural growl of need.

“Arvin, wait— wait, honey, stop—”

Arvin didn’t want to. Though, he would, just for your sake. He lifted his head up to meet yours, and once you made eye contact with him, your expression changed from flustered to concerned. Nurturing. Your hand met his cheek, your thumb gently rubbing itself underneath his eye, and he moved a hand to hold your wrist and gently kiss your palm.

Your voice was so soft, so sweet, as if you raised it any further it would blow Arvin away. “What’s going on?”

He wanted to tell you everything. You were so kind, you were everything, you were the sun and stars and sky. Nuzzling into your hand, he murmured, “Nothin’...”

“It’s clearly something if you come into my apartment and start kissing me like this, Russell,” you spoke, his last name strong in your city accent. Your voice was so stern, so dead set on uncovering him, and Arvin gazed at you, still high from revenge and loving you.

He hesitated. Arvin pinched his lips together, licking them faintly, still tasting your lip scrub on them.

Your warm hands met his burning face, handling them so sweetly. “You don’t need to give me specifics,” you started, “...just give me something, Arvin, so I know you’re in your right mind.”

Your name made his eyes flutter shut, nudging his nose against yours. “Say m’name like that again, sweet girl…”

“Arvin.” Your tone was more of a warning. It pulled him back from the sea of desire.

Arvin sighed, mumbling, “I had a revelation, darlin’…” his thumb rolled circles into your wrist, “I had a good day… ‘m a free man, Y/N. I wanna share this with you.” He opened his eyes to see you gazing at him so sweetly. “Let me have this night with you, pretty girl. I wanna make you feel as good as me. I’m sober, I promise, ‘m just intoxicated by the thought of you.”

“Such a flirt,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt himself smirking.

“Only for you.”

Your beautiful, reflective eyes stared into his. Then, they shut, and you moved your head forward to slowly encapture his lips. Arvin was more than eager to requite this. Fervor filled his loins as he clutched your thigh once it was squeezing against his side.

“Sweet baby girl,” he whispered into your ear, “Can we move this to your bed?”

—

When Arvin woke up, he had never felt more exhausted. He was hit with a newfound clarity. There was a soft gray shade leaking from the windows, and he squinted at the clock from across the room— wiping the fogginess from his eyes— and took notice that it was in the early hours of five a.m. Arvin went to move, but was barricaded by something clinging to his side.

His eyes were round as saucers as he took a hold of your nude bodies entangled.

Flushed, he quickly whipped his head back ahead, staring at the ceiling.

The confidence he had last night was almost embarrassing. Though, he licked his teeth and looked back to you, his fingers carding through your hair. Your hair was so soft to the touch, so perfect for someone like you, never missing the latest trends.

Arvin gave a hum of contentment, taking in your features in the early morning. Last night was full of unbridled desire, a fervor that the both of you had been bottling up for who knows how long. Perhaps, since that rainy day in the bakery, there had been that weird spark that compelled you both to do this.

He buried his nose in your sweet scented hair, pressing his lips against your warm forehead, hearing you shuffle and murmur under your breath. You were still very much asleep.

Taking in your sleeping face for the last time, Arvin gave a pained smile. He didn’t want to leave you at all. He wanted to keep you forever— he wanted to wake up to this every day— but he couldn’t let you become an accomplice. Arvin had to protect you.

With that, he managed to sneak his way out of your koala arms and legs and get dressed in his old clothing. Reading over the letter he wrote yesterday, Arvin felt his heart break with each word. You didn’t deserve this. You deserved better than him— someone who could keep themselves together, who wasn’t so haunted by the past. You came to this city to escape yours, and he couldn’t drag you into his. He had to escape too. Some part of him knew you would understand that with time.

Arvin had stopped by a bakery quickly, ordering a lemon and poppyseed muffin with the most bittersweet feeling, coming back to your room to see you were still dead asleep.

He placed the muffin box down on the nightstand and folded the letter so that it stood up with your name on a proud display. Arvin’s hand wringed its way through his hair before he stared at his ragged blue cap for a moment, placing it alongside the muffin and letter.

Arvin leaned down to kiss you on the lips briefly, you giving a sleepy hum, pursuing your lips lazily before drifting unconscious again. He noticed that the sun was just rising.

The sunset brought a bit of hope. He watched you sleep for a bit, the purple turning into a golden on your features, before he made his exit.

—

Your body felt like jello. Giving a groan, your hands scavenged the sheets for the warm body that accompanied you that night, but you were left with a cold absence. Cracking your eyes open and grunting at the shine of the sun, the clock spoke nine a.m, and you were surprised Arvin was not with you.

You licked your lips and sat up. Stretching your spine, you noticed you were nude and blushed, pulling the sheets up your chest. “Arvin?” You called, noticing the lack of your friend— lover? Boyfriend? Friend with benefits?— and gave a long exhale. Luckily you had the day off, as convenient as that was.

Looking over, you noticed the hat, muffin box, and letter. Your name was in bold pencil, and you tilted your head curiously before leaning over and peering through the plastic cover. You smiled and saw the dark spots of poppyseeds on the treat. It was sentimental, and your heart nearly burst.

Gazing at the hat, you were inquiring if he just managed to leave it behind.

You decided to take the letter, opening it up and not preparing for what you’d read.

  
  


_Y/N,_

_You’re probably wondering where I am right now. I am too. If you asked me right now, I wouldn’t be able to give you an answer._

_I did something that can’t be forgiven. Maybe not by the Lord, definitely not by law, uncertain by you. I don’t want you to worry. I’m safe. I can’t come back. I can’t give you a number or address. I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t know who I will be._

_The world ain’t been kind. I know it ain’t been kind to you either. I don’t want to make things even worse for you, sweet girl. You’re everything I didn’t deserve. You said to me a long time ago that I deserve good, but I don’t. You are such a good girl, so much so I can’t have you. A part of me wants to be selfish and keep you. I know I can’t. I can’t do that to you._

_You’re gonna hear about that preacher man. You’re gonna hear things about me, probably. I just want you to know I did it because I had to. You need to know that. I couldn’t be alive knowing Lenora wasn’t and he was. I’m sorry, baby._

_I’m sorry for leaving you. I don’t want to. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be with me right now, pretty girl. I’d give everything just to see you every morning, every afternoon, every night. Ever since that day where you forgave me for the first time for my sins, smoking and drinking black coffee, I know what else I could fight for. I know what I could have just for myself. The sad part is, God is a sadist, and he won’t let me have you._

_You asked me if I like Puppy Love, and I do. I’m listening to music for once as I write this, and I understand all the stuff they cry about on the radio. I know what it means to love. My heart ain’t ever been this broke before, sweetheart._

_I love you, Y/N._

_As I said, we’ll be seeing each other again. Look out for postcards from my initials._

_A.R._

  
  


When you finished, wet spots had been dotting the paper, and the last two initials were the final nail in the coffin. You let out a choked sob, leaning over to clutch onto the paper close to your chest. You collapsed onto the sheets, weeping, unable to comprehend. You kept asking _why, why, why,_ even though it was right in front of you.

You flipped the page, noting the sweet lyrics on the back.

_I cry each night, my tears are for you, my tears are all in vain,_

_I hope, I hope and I pray, that maybe someday,_

_you’ll be back in my arms once again._

Sniffling and wiping at your nose, you gave a few sobs, pressing your palm against your damp cheeks until they turned red.

You folded the paper and placed it back on your nightstand, curling in on yourself, clutching your sheets that still had Arvin’s presence lingering on them. Pressing them against your wet, hot face, you gave a few soft wheezes.

How could you tell Arvin you loved him, too? How could you write back to him? How could you sleep at night, not knowing he was okay? That there was no way you could tell him you’d wait forever for him?

You must’ve managed to doze off, as the sun was no longer as golden as before. The skies were a clear blue, and you managed to tug on tolerable clothes. Standing on your patio, you clutched the metal railings, staring down at the town with dismay. He was no longer here. This town no longer held that charming spark that you’d learn to love.

Walking back inside, you gazed at the letter, muffin, and hat. Leaning over, you grabbed the blue cap and rubbed your thumbs against the torn fabric, pressing the lid against your lips and kissing it. At least you had this— something you rarely saw him without. He gave you this, and your heart soared at the thought. Placing it on the top of your head, you took the lemon and poppyseed muffin and headed towards McCann Boys.

Marilyn perked at your presence, speaking, “Sweetpea, it’s not your workday.”

“I’m here as a guest,” you murmured, gazing at her, and Marilyn’s eyebrows rose at your expression. She gave a sorry nod at you, continuing to swipe down the counters.

You sat in the booth you and Arvin met at, and you took your seat, gazing at the ashtray emptily. Picking at the muffin, you fixed your cap to hide your face.

The radio near the coffee player began to sing. Your heart dropped, and you recalled the oh-so familiar lyrics.

_...This is not a puppy love._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this might be the last official part. i might write an epilogue, but this is probably going to be the longest section lol. there also might be a bonus in the epilogue regarding smut heh 'cause y'all be heathens.
> 
> thanks for sticking with me on this journey <3
> 
> [you can also read it on tumblr!](https://douxdamian.tumblr.com/post/630157307311947776/%F0%9D%90%A9%F0%9D%90%AB%F0%9D%90%A8%F0%9D%90%A6%F0%9D%90%A2%F0%9D%90%AC%F0%9D%90%9E-%F0%9D%90%A6%F0%9D%90%9E-%F0%9D%90%9A-%F0%9D%90%AC%F0%9D%90%9E%F0%9D%90%9C%F0%9D%90%A8%F0%9D%90%A7%F0%9D%90%9D-%F0%9D%90%AD%F0%9D%90%A2%F0%9D%90%A6%F0%9D%90%9E-3)


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